


contract tenderness from each other like a disease

by seinmit



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Dubious Science, F/F, Fight Sex, IN SPACE!, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/pseuds/seinmit
Summary: Maybe the decades of contempt were impossible for Gamora to shake, but Nebula would do her best to beat it out of her.
Relationships: Gamora/Nebula (Marvel)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: What Fen Do (Instead of Going Outside)





	contract tenderness from each other like a disease

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



> Title from [Sisters by PK Page.](https://allyourprettywords.tumblr.com/post/182225046503/sisters-p-k-page)

Even though Nebula walked with a light stride, the metal groaned around her. Compared to her body, what had once been a bustling space station was gargantuan—so big that instead of straightforwardly orbiting the astroid that it had once strip-mined, the two masses circled one another more as equals. But it had been still for a very long time, only disturbed by the occasional collision of debris, and her movement was enough to rattle its bones. This far out in the galaxy, the space junk was minimal—even after nearly a century of abandonment, it still had enough hull integrity to keep the atmosphere inside. She was safe, almost certainly, but the creak of metal straining to hold together was still disconcerting.

Space was supposed to be silent, but in Nebula's experience, it rarely was. For such a big galaxy, there were a lot of beings running around, shooting, fucking, dying, and it was hard to avoid collisions—Thanos was a maniac, but she had spent too long as his daughter to avoid noticing the ubiquity of life. Even with that context, though, this spaceship was loud. The metal shivered and moaned and underneath that, there was the persistent sound of water that she could hear even through her helmet. That was not a good sign. Few things were as structurally damaging as running water.

She turned the corner off of the main hub toward the spoke that the ancient manifest claimed was where the captain lived. She was looking down at the tablet in her hand, distracted—but the sight of the corridor stopped her in her tracks. A riot of overgrown oxygen-producing plants had escaped from the bays where they were supposed to be planted and they turned the sterile metal walls into their personal playground. It was mostly gorkek vines, clinging to the walls and greedily growing off of next-to-nothing; they were a popular choice for spacefarers and colonists because they were nearly impossible to kill.

There couldn't be better proof than this: a century alone, and instead of fading away, they'd busted open containment and made the whole damned ship their habitat. No wonder there was water—by this point, they must have made their own world in here, surviving off the little bits of light through the windows and cracks, creating soil with their deaths and oxygen with their lives. She glanced at the reading on the corner of her helmet screen and the atmo symbol was green.

She immediately cracked it open, let it fold back up into her suit, and took a deep breath of the air—it should have been stale, but it wasn't. It smelled like life. She looked up—gorkek grew these little tendrils, almost like fringe, and they dangled from the ceiling.

"Did Thanos send you?"

The relaxation vanished. She looked down and set her stance. Gamora was ten feet down the hall, her skin complemented by all the subtle shades of green in the vines. She looked good—healthy. She had a case in her hand—almost certainly the same object Nebula had come here for, the rumored find that could neutralize something as powerful as a sun. The moment Nebula had heard about it, she knew it was worth seeking out, even if it was a space jockey legend. Some academic had been writing a book, asking around, and his questions disturbed a lot of well-I-heard recollections in the galaxy. If there was even a chance it was real, it could help kill Thanos.

Of course Gamora thought the same thing; of course her training was just as good as Nebula's, and she was just as capable of tracking down the kernels of legitimacy in a mountain of bullshit. They'd both come running because of Thanos, like usual, and Nebula was furious. They had called each other sisters last time they saw each other, and yet, here they were again, Gamora coldly accusatory. Maybe the decades of contempt were impossible for her to shake, but Nebula would do her best to beat it out of her.

Nebula roared and went for her, going for her neck—she knew that Gamora would block it, and she knew that attacking would just convince Gamora that she was the enemy once again, but fuck her. Fuck her. Just because she was a conniving little shit too focused on Thanos's regard to give a damn about her sister didn't mean—

Gamora's arm blocked the blow and Nebula dropped, sweeping her leg to trip her. Gamora dived, landing in a somersault, but Nebula expected that enough to lunge forward and try to just fucking tackle her.

"Fuck you," Nebula growled, grabbing at her legs. "Fuck you, _sister_. How long has it been since you told me that? Less than a year?"

"You're working for him—" Gamora started.

Nebula made a noise of inarticulate rage, trying to pull Gamora closer and break her nose. This was why Gamora always won their fights. Gamora was cold where Nebula ran hot—ironically, considering which one of them was mostly metal. Even after all of their past, Nebula still fought like you'd fight a sibling; Gamora would fight like an assassin.

Gamora twisted them around, pinning Nebula to the ground with her hands and thighs. She opened her mouth—probably to spout more accusations, but Nebula jerked her head up to try to smash Gamora with it. She connected, but not hard enough—either that, or Gamora had enough discipline to keep holding on. Gamora cursed, jolting her face further out of reach, but didn't let up.

Even thrashing, Nebula couldn't shake Gamora's hold. In the old reflex, she stopped fighting, glowering and breathing hard. Gamora's blood dripped out of her nose and onto Nebula's cheek—it almost took the same rhythm as the water, still dripping around them.

After a moment of near unbearable silence, Nebula couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm not working for him again," she said. "I'm here about whatever the rumor was about, same as you."

Gamora searched her face, as if Nebula would even try at deceit, and then released her. Gamora sat back, her hand going up to check how badly her nose was injured, and watched Nebula pull herself up.

"I'm taking it with me," Gamora said, looking at the sheen of her blue blood on her fingers. "But it's probably nothing. Looks like one of those toys that they sell to wanna-be spies, a very targeted EMP."

Nebula had gone this whole journey thinking it was futile, so the bitterness of her disappointment surprised her. She jerked her head so she wouldn't have to look at Gamora. Even the beauty of the vines on the walls was spoiled; they just reminded her of Gamora's skin.

She felt a touch on her hand and she slapped at it without looking. Gamora's grip went like iron around her wrist, and when Nebula turned to yell at her some more, her face was closer than expected.

"I'm sorry—" Gamora started, and the apology felt like a final insult. Nebula threw herself at Gamora, this time tackling her to the ground—she hadn't been expecting more of a fight. When Gamora was flat on her back, she reflexively tested Nebula's hold, but then she relaxed, going limp. Nebula always did the same thing, when she was beaten, but somehow when Gamora surrendered it felt like strength.

"Nebula, I mean it—"

Nebula only knew one way to really shut her up, and so, for the second time in their lives, she leaned down and kissed her. Gamora gasped in surprise and Nebula took advantage, kissing her harder. Her blood spilled into both of her mouths, making the kiss taste like cesium.

And then Gamora kissed back, near as desperate as Nebula felt. Nebula pushed her advantage, sinking one hand into Gamora's hair, pulling tight, revealing her neck. Leaning in, Nebula sucked an indigo mark on her pulse point and felt the sound of Gamora's helpless moan from deep in her throat. She dug her teeth in and Gamora jerked, none of that hateful control in evidence anymore.

Nebula's hand snuck between their bodies and fumbled at the zipper that she knew was at Gamora's waist. She knew precisely the style of Gamora's suit, she knew all the details of her routine and the things that were a comfort to her—they were the same, they had learned in the same place. She slipped her fingers underneath Gamora's base layer and Gamora shuddered at the touch. Her head was thrown back against the metal floor, blood smeared across her cheeks. Nebula couldn't get enough of staring at her, the flow of her hair, her parted mouth and its wet insides. Gamora was wet underneath her fingers, too, and the flesh had the same give of her tongue. Nebula went right for Gamora's clit—her own anatomy wasn't the same, but she knew Gamora, inside and out. She remembered the breathlessness of their first time, the way they giggled. She'd sunk down Gamora's body and looked up, smiling—she'd tasted her, salt and cesium, and she'd let herself linger.

Not now—now she was brutal, rubbing intense circles right on her—if she could punch pleasure out of Gamora, she would. Gamora's back hunched up, curling in as if she wanted to protect her gut, and then she came—it wasn't noisy, but Nebula could almost taste the wetness of her gasp. She felt the electric tremors in Gamora's muscles, heard the slam of her boots hitting the ground. She wrecked Gamora, wetness flooding around her hand—wet could really destroy structural integrity, and Gamora was gone. Nebula kept rubbing her all the way through it, wanting to keep this moment as long as she could. Her own pussy was molten, enough that she could feel the slick sticking to her clothing, rubbing her raw.

There was a moment, after that earthquake of an orgasm, where Nebula saw Gamora sink back down against the floor. Her face softened and she looked at Nebula like she was about to smile. She reached one hand toward Nebula, just as Nebula eased her own hand out of Gamora's underwear—this was a moment where there could be reciprocity. They could be something with a give, as well as a take; there was so much promise in Gamora's lips on the precipice of offering.

But Nebula stood, her heart pounding. She pulled away and left Gamora startled on the floor. Looking down at her, she remembered countless times when their position had been reversed, where Gamora had stared at her prone and had no mercy. She could change the pattern, but the prospect of revenge was too enticing.

She was proud of herself; she didn't look back when she left.

Near where she docked her ship, there was a tiny vine sneaking tendrils along the wall—it was a colonizer, finding new places to grow and change stark and barren ruins into a home. Nebula tore it down and left it to wither on the floor.

  
  



End file.
